


Mothering

by Missy



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Ancient Roman Religion & Lore
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hair Brushing, Introspection, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Nostalgia, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Persephone's hair is tangled.  Demeter combs it.





	Mothering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceQueenKing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/gifts).

Persephone is combing out her own hair.

It is thick and long and red, matted down from the cave water and dankness to which it has been subjected all winter. She has to struggle to pull the tool through the thickness of it, lamenting the ease with which she had dressed in the darkness. 

It seems to take forever to simply make it look like it belongs on the head of a goddess.

“I remember,” Demeter says, watching her daughter as she watches herself in the mirror, “A young girl who ever needed my help to fix herself for the people.”

Persephone gave a soft laugh and sat back against her mother’s small wooden throne. “That young girl is long grown.”

“But she ever needs her mother’s help.” There was a prayer folded up into that proclamation.

“Of course,” said Persephone. The statement didn’t really require much thought. Her mother would be eternally in Persephone’s life, and her mother would eternally be needed. 

Demeter sits behind her daughter and picks up the comb. It’s smooth and made out of a thick, cobalt colored material. A charred bone? A bit of obsidian?

She applies it to her daughter’s hair and pulls, carefully. Persephone winces, even though it’s not a firm tug. She always has, even when she was a small child.

Demeter hums an old tune as she tugs apart the tangles. There’s nothing in her mind at the moment – empty and small and soft, just as they’d always been together. Before him. Before Hades. Before their live had changed and before everything had gone strange.

Demeter keeps going. She spends every winter looking back. Now is not the time to keep looking over her shoulder and wondering what the hell had gone wrong.

Persephone doesn’t move, except to laugh and hum to the tune stuck in her own head. Soon enough she will be a part of the dead again, and soon enough Demeter will go back into hiding as the earth goes cold and barren for months. In spite of the mild rebellion, Demeter cherishes the moment.

It is as it was, and will always be.


End file.
